“You know what you think you heard,” Sean cut in.
“‘Try this shit again and next time we send you the kid’s ears.’ He was quite specific,” I said mildly. “If you can put another, more innocent meaning on those words, Sean, I’d like to hear it.”
I’d already been through the whole story of the afternoon’s ambush in the forest and the firefight that had followed. Sean’s German was fluent, much better than mine. Even he had to admit that, if I’d heard correctly, my translation was right, too.
He’d asked me twice if I was sure I was OK, and again if I wanted to call the whole thing off and come back to the UK. I’d answered yes to the former question and a firm no to the latter.
Sean had gone quiet, locked down, terse, like he always did when he was in the field himself. He was sending Madeleine out to Einsbaden, he’d told me then, so she’d be close at hand to liaise if things got hairy. She was arriving tomorrow. I’d wished that Sean was coming himself, but would have bitten out my tongue before I’d put that longing into words.
Now, he sighed. “It still doesn’t fit,” he said at last, sounding tired. More than tired, bone weary, defeated. “The dates for the Krauss girl’s disappearance and Salter’s death don’t fit. Unless they managed to keep him on ice for a couple of weeks after she was taken.”
Disappointment came down over me in a grey wash. “Damn,” I said. “It was neat. I thought I’d got it.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Sean said, and there was a smile in his voice now. “We’ve been going over every permutation at this end and not come up with anything better.”
I was alone in the women’s dormitory after dinner, sitting on the window ledge with my feet tucked up in front of me. I held the phone cradled in my right hand, next to the glass. It was dark outside, cold enough for snow, but I couldn’t suppress the warm delight I felt at speaking to Sean again.
“It doesn’t mean that Kirk didn’t find out about the kidnap and try and do something about it,” I said, screwing my eyes up as I let the memory of Sean’s words in that deserted pub scroll back behind my eyes like an autocue. “Didn’t you tell me that in his last phone call Kirk said he wished he’d stood up for me, that it had been on his conscience, and that he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice?”
“True,” Sean said slowly. “I suppose it could fit with him having discovered that the girl was being held at the school somewhere and not wanting to stand by and do nothing. Did you ever find out where Gilby was going when he was being followed that night?”
“No,” I admitted. “There’s been rather a lot going on here since we last spoke. I’ll give it another try soon.”
“OK, but be careful. If we’re right about this, the Major could be a very dangerous man to cross. We’ve checked his finances, by the way, to find out how he can afford his flash new car. He’s been receiving large sums of cash from a Swiss account, starting about six months ago.”
“Which was when the kidnappings started,” I realised. “Coincidence?”
“Could be, but I’ve never liked them,” Sean agreed. “Thing is, they’re regular payments and they don’t coincide with the ransom amounts.”
“Maybe he’s just a sub contractor,” I said. “You told me Gregor Venko was thought to be behind these kidnappings, but it was a change of style. Maybe he’s farmed the work out and Gilby’s on a retainer to get the job done any way he chooses.”
Sean was quiet for a moment, but I could hear his brain turning over. “Now that does fit,” he said eventually. “I don’t like it, but it does fit. I’ll get Madeleine on to tracing the money, although that’s going to be a difficult one, if not impossible. The Swiss are a tight-lipped bunch.”
“When I last spoke to Madeleine, she said she was working to find out more about the men in the Peugeot. Has she made any headway yet?”
“Not really,” Sean admitted. “We know the parent company’s Russian, and that’s where we’ve hit a brick wall.”
“Russian?” I said. Madeleine had mentioned the Russians and it had rung vague bells at the time that I hadn’t been able to clarify. Then it clicked. “The last kid to be taken before Heidi was a Russian. I don’t know what circles the kid’s father moves in, but there’s no chance he’s hired in mercenaries to harass Gilby into giving him back?”
“Could be,” Sean said and I heard the quickening. “You might have something there. We’ll try and trace a link between the two from both ends, see if we have any more success that way. Good work, Charlie.”
There was closure in his voice. I realised that he was getting ready to end the call, and almost panicked.
“So, how was your Arab prince?” I said, almost babbling. It was the first thing that came into my head. It sounded crass, even as I said it.
“Spoilt, bored, demanding,” he came back with immediately, “but rich enough to pay a double-rate fee without a quibble. For that I’m prepared to put up with most of his bratty ways.”
“Oh,” I said. My mind had suddenly emptied of all rational thought, except that Sean was going, and that I didn’t want him to.
There was a pause. “Charlie,” he said gently, “are you OK?” It was that very gentleness that was nearly my undoing.
“Yes,” I said, “it’s just—” I broke off, bit my lip.
“Just what?”
“Nothing,” I said. “It’s nothing. Look, Sean, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, OK?” I ended the call fast and leaned my head down so my forehead rested against my knees.
I’d thought I was stronger than that. I’d thought I was over him, but our almost daily contact, even by telephone, had reawakened feelings I’d thought were dead, not sleeping. At that moment I’d come so close to telling Sean just how much I’d missed him. The very fact that I’d been tempted to do so frightened me far more than any dangers presented by Major Gilby and his men.
My mind went back again. It was a long time since I’d thought about that first time Sean and I had got together. Chance and circumstance had played a big part in it, really.
I’d been more than halfway through the Special Forces course by that time and had just gone through a nasty Resistance-to-Interrogation exercise that had been particularly difficult to take. If it hadn’t been for Sean’s unexpected reassurance part way through, I sometimes wonder if I would have had the stomach to see it to the bitter end.
That evening we’d all been issued with weekend passes, probably by way of reward. Everyone was rushing around getting ready for a night on the piss. Their first opportunity to let go since the course started. I hadn’t felt like celebrating. I’d showered and changed into my civvies, but hadn’t planned on leaving camp.
Until, that is, quite by chance I ran into Sean in a deserted corridor. He’d nodded shortly, as he would have done with any of the trainees, and made to move past me. Suddenly I wanted to know why he’d encouraged me alone to keep it together, to keep going. If I’d had longer to think about it, I might not have dared approach him. But I didn’t, so I asked him, straight out.
He’d paused for a moment, unsmiling, regarding me with those brooding eyes. “You would have made it without my help, don’t worry about it,” he said at last, but as he turned to leave I put my hand on his arm.
“Thank you, anyway,” I said simply, and meant it.
He’d looked down at my hand and for a moment I thought I’d offended him, crossed the line, been too familiar. I remembered the brilliant smile he’d given me during the exercise, the one no one else had seen, and I couldn’t be sure, either way.